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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748493">Impossible</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnontheNullifier/pseuds/AnontheNullifier'>AnontheNullifier</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, F/M, Vision with a baby, fluff and minor existential crisis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:28:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnontheNullifier/pseuds/AnontheNullifier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vision is in awe of their lives, even if it seems too good to be true.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wanda Maximoff/Vision</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Impossible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I haven’t written in a really, really long time, and figured a drabble might be the best way to dip my toes back in. Also, I am so excited for WandaVision, particularly to see Vision as a dad! </p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is awed. Not an unusual feeling for Vision, the world around him always teeming with uncountable beauty, but since the birth of the twins it has become a mainstay. From their tiny fingers to the wrinkles of their skin, the effortless weight of their bodies in his arms, and the little bags under Billy’s eyes or the funny balding pattern of Tommy’s wispy hair that Wanda jokes make them seem like middle-aged men. There’s the way they stretch and move with little grace as they test out the freedom of their postnatal lives, and the fluttering expressions on their faces and the way they strain their necks and purse their lips in the middle of sleep. Even the cantankerous, glassy eyed stare Tommy is giving him now just sends a radiant awe from the vibranium atop Vision’s head down to his toes.<br/>
<br/>
“If you would cooperate this would go faster.” Tommy doesn’t respond to his logic beyond a deepening of the lines in his little forehead, a guttural cry no doubt on the horizon if Vision does not finish dressing him soon. “Please?” It is an empty plea, one he doesn’t fully understand the utility in offering other than he feels compelled to converse with them, desiring to provide them comfort and explain everything about the world in hopes it later on helps them navigate the sometimes tumultuous and confusing waters of existence.<br/>
<br/>
Vision gently grabs the baby’s arm and guides it into the sleeve of the terry cloth pajamas. He’s discovered the key to easing their often stubbornly bent arms and tightly cinched fists into the sleeve is by pinching either side of the fabric and shimmying it ever so slowly down.  The final tug that reveals Tommy’s hand causes him to startle, arms and legs going rigid and his pout fracturing into a dangerous quiver. “My apologies,” Vision lays his hand lightly on Tommy’s bare stomach, palm moving in what he hopes is a soothing circle. His lips tip upwards at the featherlight rise and fall of his son’s chest. “See, there is no need to fret.” A statement that he feels ridiculous saying, not because it is factually incorrect, but because he knows it is incomprehensible to the intended audience. Once the boy has calmed slightly, Vision repeats the routine with the other arm.<br/>
<br/>
Now that the easy part is done, Vision moves his attention to Tommy’s legs, which are bent at the knees and held up against his stomach. This is Vision’s least favorite part of changing either boy, a feeling of fragility when he reaches down and wraps his fingers around Tommy’s calf. It is jarring at just how monstrously large his hand is on his son’s leg, an image that only stokes his concerns of how their neighbors would perceive him if they ever found out his true appearance. Shaking off this thought, he attempts to ease the leg into a straightened position that would allow him to put the pajama leg on, but Tommy won’t budge. “Again, some cooperation would be appreciated.” A second attempt gets the angle of the knee to become more obtuse, enough that he places the comical bear-headed foot over Tommy’s toes. The problem occurs when Vision releases his grip in order to snap the closures of the leg, Tommy yanking his foot back to its starting position.  Vision sighs and starts again, always worried about underestimating his strength and applying too much pressure. After four similar attempts Vision drops his hand, shaking his head at Tommy with a fairly good-natured, “You are making this quite impossible.”<br/>
<br/>
The smile wavers on Vision’s face, the word one he and Wanda try not to use because each time they do it feels as if there is a veil that will be lifted, showing their lives to be a sham. Because it is impossible, all of it. From his synthetic nature  to her powers, their love, and now the blissful, idyllic family they’ve created; it is hard to believe any of it was supposed to happen. Her pregnancy, in particular, was a surprise, which is putting it mildly. And when he begins to think too deeply about it all there is this prickle of unease, like the one he gets when he forgets something from the store and Wanda dances around the answer until he remembers, always enjoying him being flustered. Except this seems more monumental than forgetting tea. Sometimes, particularly on dangerously quiet nights, it feels as if an entire life is attempting to claw its way back to existence. </p><p>A sharp wail breaks his spiraling thoughts, Tommy’s patience gone. Vision gazes down at his son, thumb rubbing up and down the tiny calf in his hand, and smiles. Whatever it is they are forgetting, it is inconsequential to the joy and wonder of their lives together. He has Wanda, and Billy, and Tommy and there is nothing else to be unraveled to know that this is perfection. Gently he applies pressure to Tommy’s leg, straightening it enough to snap shut the pajamas. The grin on his face grows wider as he slides his hands under his son's neck and bottom. Carefully he lifts the boy up so that their noses are touching, “Impossible is fine with me.” 
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